


magic scarves

by polkadot



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Blindfolds, Canon Gay Relationship, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Handcuffs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 19:35:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polkadot/pseuds/polkadot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David has 30 minutes before Neil gets home. Just enough time to set the stage.</p><p>(First line is not mine, but was supplied by an anonymous Tumblr user as a fic challenge. Thanks, challenger!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	magic scarves

"Will be home in 30min, N" Neil had texted from the cab.

30 minutes doesn’t give him a lot of time, but David is nothing if not resourceful. The kids are already asleep, after a stack of bedtime stories and a smashing rendition of their lullaby (if he does say so himself). So his night is his own, and he intends to make the most of it.

He switches the light on before he ducks inside Neil’s magic man-cave, because Oprah was right, that little glaring man scares even him in the dark. Only Neil likes that guy. David skirts his chair with more caution than he’d ever admit to anyone else, and finds what he’s looking for in one of Neil’s drawers. Tucking his prize in his pocket, he heads back out, whistling a jaunty air under his breath – then thinks of something else and doubles back, keeping a wary eye on the watcher doll.

Targets acquired, he sets up the house, rushing about on nimble feet. 15 minutes now, he thinks, and that gives him just enough time. Just enough time to dash to his mark and get ready.

And then he waits.

He hears Neil at the front door, and then silence. His mind conjures up the picture: Neil standing in the doorway, looking in some bewilderment at the dark house. Barely 9 o’clock, and David’s already asleep? He’d texted from the cab...but no, there’s a light on upstairs, casting a long beam down the stairs, and the light is falling on something colorful, a long vivid line...

David imagines Neil hanging his keys up and bending down to inspect the colorful thing on the floor. He thinks Neil will be smiling as he picks up one of his bright magic scarves, only to find it attached to another and another, leading him up the stairs towards the light.

Yes, there are Neil’s steps on the stair.

As the door swings open, David imagines the look on Neil’s face. He thinks it’ll be surprise at first, chased swiftly by laughing affection, and then hopefully followed by incipient lust. He likes it when Neil’s eyes turn dark, the whip-end of desire sparking in their depths. He loves that he’s the one to do that; he’s a competitive guy, for all that he likes to think he’s nice, and it’s a thrill to know that just about everyone in the world wants to sleep with Neil, but Neil comes home to him.

“Do you know what you look like right now?” Neil asks. His voice is rough.

David wiggles a little, readjusting his weight. “I have some idea.” He can hear the edge of self-satisfied glee in his own voice, but why not take pride in yourself when you’re as hot as he is?

Neil laughs, a little snort of a laugh, and then the bed dips. Even though he’s half expecting it, the hand on his ankle makes David jump with the unexpectedness. All his senses are straining, hyper-aware. “Is that my blindfold? And my handcuffs? You know I lost the key to those.”

He’s lived with the man for six years now, and loved him for longer – he hears the teasing lie in his voice, and doesn’t even flinch. “Sure you did. Well, you’ll have to get your picklocks then.”

Neil laughs again, softer. The hand on David’s ankle starts to skim gently up his leg, making goosebumps rise on long expanses of exposed flesh. “I should take pictures of you like this.”

David licks his lips. “Go for it. Just don’t lose your phone.”

“Not like you haven’t been naked in public before,” Neil says, and David hardly hears him, because _that hand_ is getting awfully close to somewhere he suddenly wants it very much. “Mr. The Play About the Penis.”

“That’s not what it was called and you know it,” David says, but then Neil’s hand does descend, and David arches helplessly, hands straining against their restraints. 

“I like you this way,” Neil says, musingly. “I can do whatever I want to you, and you won’t even see it coming.”

“Promises, promises,” David gasps, kicking out in Neil’s general direction and smiling in satisfaction at Neil’s yelp when his toes hit flesh. 

“Behave,” Neil says, “or I won’t do _this_ ,” and okay, that’s Neil’s mouth, and it’s _there_ , and David loves the way this man thinks. 

“I love the way you think,” he says, and it’s his voice that’s rough now, scraping along.

“You love _me_ ,” Neil says, serenely, and puts his tongue back where it was.

And yes, David does. 

He really does.


End file.
